Welcome to the Dollhouse
by Qym
Summary: Written for avalancherun on tumblr, one of the winners of the holiday giveaway. At Henry's request, Emma headed to Boston - the last known location of a willfully missing Regina. What Emma found there was an organization that had wiped Regina's mind.
1. Chapter 1

The flow of people was all at once foreign and familiar; she had walked these streets a million times, but those experiences felt like they happened a lifetime ago rather than five years prior. She had spent too long in Storybrooke, she thought, because she was no longer at home in the ebb and flow of commuters bustling from home to work and back again. Now she was one of the tourists she used to look at so disdainfully, interrupting the tide and blocking passage with her slow pace and wide eyes. She got bumped by other pedestrians a number of times, but she understood their grouchiness and impatience.

She couldn't help but feel that this was a waste of time. Regina had left half a year ago without a word, except for a short, handwritten missive that directed Henry to forgive her, forget her, and move on without her. She hated seeing how broken that had left the kid, but she sort of understood Regina's need to escape. While things in Storybrooke weren't heading towards violence, Regina wasn't the most beloved of all residents. She had answered a number of midnight calls from the brunette to come and chase young hooligans off her property, and she had spent several hours scrubbing spray paint from the sides of Regina's house. There was nothing fun about getting toilet paper out of Regina's trees or mopping eggs off the window.

She wondered if Regina's life was any better out in the real world. The brunette had no real identification, no real work experience, and no connections. Finding a job was probably difficult when a background check would show that she somehow popped into existence thirty years prior in a town nobody had ever heard of in Maine. The curse had done a lot in terms of allowing the town to function, but she doubted it could change the records of the United States government. Her first stop in Boston had been the local homeless shelters, but nobody had seen a sassy brunette with a scathing wit and sharp tongue.

Emma grimaced. She was very used to tracking people down, but this was the coldest trail she'd ever had to work with. All she had to work from was a receipt from several months prior – the only charge on Regina's credit card since she left town. The chances of someone recognizing Regina were slim, so Emma hadn't bothered checking the coffee shop yet. She didn't want to talk to Henry and admit that she was out of options just yet. Rather than concede defeat, she had spent a week wandering the streets of Boston in the hopes that Regina would just magically appear in front of her. That was, after all, how fairytales worked, and she was the offspring of Snow White and Prince Charming. Things were supposed to magically work out for her.

Then again, she was looking for the Evil Queen, for whom nothing was supposed to go well. Emma's good karma and Regina's bad karma likely canceled each other out. Emma sighed and rubbed the back of her neck as she walked. She would do this for the kid, but she was already losing hope. Finding Regina was pretty much impossible; this was the last city they knew she had been in, but that was ages ago. As far as Emma knew, Regina could be anywhere in the world. When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out, grateful for an excuse to stop trying if only for a few minutes.

**Emma! Things are okay here, but I miss you! Bring Mom home soon!**

There was no escaping her task, she realized, but she had known that when she had acceded to Henry's demands. He was a persistent kid, and when he wanted something, he knew all the right strings to pull. He had manipulated her into driving him home the first night they met, and his prowess at getting her to do as he wanted was only growing. If he weren't such a good kid, she'd be worried. Because he was a shining example of youthful optimism, she pulled the receipt from her pocket and set off for the coffee shop. Even if nobody recognized Regina's picture, she could at least say she was trying.

0-0-0

_Henry sat at the kitchen table in the empty house that no longer felt like home and stared down at the envelope with his name printed upon it in elegant cursive. She had written his name on a number of items over the years, from lunch bags to his undergarments, but never had seeing his handwriting caused him to feel such sadness. She had written this for him, and now she was gone. The message inside didn't matter. He knew what it would say. He had abandoned her in favor of Emma, and now she was abandoning him. That was fair. He deserved it._

_He set his head on the table top and took several deep breaths. This was what he wanted, he reminded himself. Not only had he fetched Emma from Boston, but he had all but moved in with Emma the first chance he was afforded. He hadn't wanted her around, yet that she was truly gone, he found he wanted her back. There were a number of things for which he had to apologize. He wanted to hug her again and feel her hand rub a small circle on his back._

_Lifting his head off the table, he resolved to open the letter and read its contents. With steady fingers, he broke the seal and pulled three pieces of paper, all covered in her tight cursive. The first page was an apology. She apologized for lying to him for all those years, for putting him into therapy instead of listening to him. She apologized for trying to keep him from Emma and for destroying his castle. The list went on, and every single line made his throat clench a little tighter. He rubbed a fist over his eyes and set the page aside. _

_**When I was young, all I wanted was to love and be loved. My father was free with his affection, but my mother could barely look at me. I grew up with these contrasting images of parenthood and should have known better than to idolize my mother, but my father, for all his caring, could not protect me. When you came into my life, I realized that I had something more valuable than my own life. I couldn't imagine sitting idly by and letting life ravage you.**_

_**So perhaps I was strict. That is one thing for which I will not apologize. I did my best by you, Henry, for better or worse. There comes a time in every parent's life, however, when she must walk away and let her child live for himself. This feels too soon, but I know now that I am not what you need. You need a life unfettered by my past.**_

_**I need you to know that no matter what has occurred between us, I always loved you – from the moment I first held you and onward. I have no knowledge of what my future holds, but you will always be the memory I hold onto tightest, even in the darkest of times.**_

_**Be good for Emma. Stay in school, even if the two idiots wish you to take up sword fighting, or some other archaic form of athleticism. Storybrooke is not the Enchanted Forest, and you need knowledge more than you need a series of scars and a sharp blade. Remember to trust your heart and forgive those who have hurt you. I hope someday you will forgive me.**_

_Henry folded the first two sheets of paper up and tucked them into his pocket. The third was incredibly brief. Her last instructions to him were that he forget her and move on. He wasn't sure that was a possibility, but she had asked it of him, so he'd try. He dried his tears and cleared his throat just in time to hear the front door open and close._

_"Kid, you in here?"_

_"In the kitchen."_

_"Is she not here?"_

_"She's not anywhere in Storybrooke," he reported, lifting the final page for Emma to see. "She left."_

_"Shit, kid…" Emma stood in the entryway to the kitchen and stuffed her hands into her pockets. She was no good with offering comfort, and he became painfully aware of that fact as she continued staring at him and rocking back on her heels. A hug would have been appreciated, he thought, but he didn't ask for one. He'd just have to get used to this style of mothering._

0-0-0

Emma showed the picture around, but, as she suspected earlier, nobody remembered the customers from a day ago, let alone a couple of months before. She ordered a coffee, happy that they had a no frills option along with their varieties of sizes, flavors, and additives, and took a seat near a window. Coffee in hand, she set the picture of Regina in front of her and sighed. It wasn't just for the kid, she thought. This whole adventure was for her, too. Some part of her desperately missed the brunette's dour sense of humor and snappy comebacks. Since Regina left, there was no one left in Storybrooke who didn't fawn at her feet or alternately handle her with kid gloves. She had enough royal lineage to make people love her, but she had a hard time handling her magic and her temper.

Regina used to keep her grounded.

She sipped her coffee and answered her ringing phone. "Hello?"

"Emma, I'm just checking in on you. How are things alone?"

Emma watched a young family through the coffee shop's large glass front window. They looked so happy together, she thought. She didn't think she'd ever have that. "They're going just fine. How's Henry?"

"He's keeping himself busy. Have you-"

"That's great!" Emma feigned enthusiasm. She spoke loudly enough that she could pretend to have not heard the beginning of Snow's question. "And the little tater tot?"

Emma's distraction worked; Snow began a tirade of detailing baby Neal's every step, word, bowel movement, and laugh. Though Emma did care about her little brother, she had very little interest in everything Snow was saying, which meant she had a few minutes to stare down at the picture and think about all the things that had never been or happened.

"Are you okay?"

She must have missed a cue, she realized. She cleared her throat. "Sorry – I'm in a coffee shop, and it just got a bit loud. Say again?"

"I asked if there was anything you wanted me to tell Henry?"

"I can text him back later."

"He doesn't think you're finding much. If you were, he thinks you'd be texting him more."

"I'm sure he'd rather I was looking rather than texting him every time I got a fresh lead."

"That's true, but he's your son, Emma. He needs a bit more than a daily one word text."

"Hold on." Emma stared out the shop window and tried to determine if she were hallucinating, or if Regina was really standing on the opposite side of the street, holding hands with a strange man. She blinked several times, jumped to her feet, and said, "I need to call you back. I think I'm onto something."

Leaving her coffee behind, she scrambled outside only to find the street devoid of her prey. She cursed quietly until she noticed Regina's new male friend standing on the curb with a wide, dreamy grin on his face. Maybe she couldn't catch Regina just yet, but this was so much better than aimlessly wandering the streets. Careful of traffic, she crossed the street and approached him.

"Sir, can I talk to you for a second?"

His face went from blissfully happy to suspicious in a split second. "You a cop?"

"No. I was just wondering about that woman you were just with. I've been looking for her for a while, and I'd really like to track her down."

"Good luck with that," he replied.

He tucked his hands in his pockets and turned to stroll away, so she grabbed his arm. Rolling his eyes, he extended his right hand. Curious but wary, she shook it. As he left her on the curb, she glanced down at her palm. He had left a business card there. There was a name and a number, but nothing else.


	2. Chapter 2

BEFORE. Regina spent the first few days of her self-imposed exile seated on a bench near a bus stop. She was aware that such conduct could be viewed as the behavior of someone up to no good, so she kept her appearance prim. Her grasp on magic outside of Storybrooke was strained and difficult to control, but she managed the little things, like cleansing herself once a day and getting her hair to stay just the way she wanted it to.

She watched the people as they passed and tried to get a better idea of how they interacted with one another. Storybrooke, while part of this reality, wasn't quite the same as other places, or so Regina had gathered thus far. People rarely greeted one another, and there was rarely even an acknowledgement of another's personhood. One man nearly knocked a woman down, and neither reacted.

By the time a police officer came through to shoo her on her way, she had a fairly good idea about how this world worked – those in power acted however they wanted, and those with less power got out of the way or got trampled. In Storybrooke, this would have made her happy; out here, though, she realized that she was one of the weak. She had joined the ranks of the powerless at the bottom of the social hierarchy.

The next few months drifted by in a haze of similar days and listless nights. For the first time in her life, she had no purpose and no direction. More often than not she turned to bottles of wine for answers; she found none, but they allowed her to rest for more than a few minutes at a time. She took shelter in empty rooms at motels because she had very by way of liquid assets – leaving in the middle of the night would do that to you, she thought. She ought to have prepared more for her new life, but she hadn't been thinking about the details.

She avoided people as best she could, save for the few interactions she had to endure – the man at the liquor store knew her face and also knew she wasn't partial to small talk. This was the one interaction that didn't cause anxiety to swell in her belly. She knew he could be trusted to simply conduct the transaction. Thankfully the nearby grocery stores had self-checkout lanes, where she didn't have to exchange pleasantries and make eye contact with a gangly teenager pretending to smile.

Eventually, though, a maid spotted her leaving a room that should have been empty, and she was forced to move on. The nights she spent in the park were full of misery, but she was running out of options. She couldn't return to Storybrooke – not like that, with her tail between her legs. The choice was between an old hell or a new one, and at least nobody here knew her past misdeeds. She might be sleeping under a tree, but she wasn't getting verbally berated and threatened.

When she entered the coffee shop that produced the receipt in Emma's pocket, she had exhausted the last of her funds. No matter how much magic she could control out here, she couldn't quite make a cup of coffee that tasted right; the food, too, was a poor substitute for real nutrition. If nobody had come looking for her yet, she figured, then it was likely that nobody was looking. Using her credit card once would be innocuous – or, at least, that's what she told herself in order to justify the purchase of a small black coffee and a bran muffin. When the food hit her lips, she no longer cared if someone discovered her. The time elapsed from that moment and her last real meal had been too great.

She sat by the window and watched families roam the streets. As she sipped her steaming beverage, she wondered what her life would have been like if she had been born into this world – perhaps then her mother would have been satisfied with who she was, rather than cloying for power. Then again, with no monarchy here, Cora would have probably sought this world's power instead. Locations changed, but people didn't.

She had thought coming to Boston would be a fresh start, but she was beginning to realize that her abrupt move was more of a suicidal trip rather than anything else. She had no way to support herself, and she was very tired of being alone. She'd even settle for one of Ms. Swan's badly executed responses to her wit. Their repartee, while somewhat confrontational, was exactly what she wanted. She finished her drink with the sad knowledge that she'd never have that, or Henry, ever again. As she stood, a man set his hand on her arm.

"I've been watching you. Well, that sounds – creepy. Let me try again, would you care to join me for a moment? You seem hungry, and I'd be glad to buy you an actual meal."

"No. I'm fine. Thank you." Regina pulled out of his grip and contemplated if she could outrun him if need be. "Good day-"

"I truly didn't mean to startle you." He extended his hand. "I'm Christopher – Topher. I think I may be able to assist you."

She warily shook his hand and then backed up a step. "I really must go."

"You need a job, don't you?"

Though he was right, she didn't feel like revealing her details to a stranger. "I am gainfully employed, thank you."

"Then maybe I misread the situation." His tone implied that he thought no such thing. "One meal, Ms…?"

"Mills."

"One meal, Ms. Mills, and I promise you'll be glad we spoke."

"You may say your piece right here."

"Can I get you another coffee?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "Speak now, or I'm leaving."

"The Constitution protects a person's right to the pursuit of happiness, did you know that?" He guided her to his table in the back. "So I have to ask you – what's yours? Your happiness, I mean?"

She thought of Henry and frowned. "I have none."

"Right." He dug into his pocket and slid a card across the table. "But how would you like some?"

There was no real magic out here, she thought. He was offering nothing but smoke and mirrors – she ought to leave, yet she remained in place, staring at the card in front of her. After a moment, she reached down, picked the card up, and brought it closer to her face. She read it several times before returning her gaze to his face.

"Dollhouse?"

"What I have to offer is simple: The promise of a happy ending."

"And what is the cost?"

"The Dollhouse is an organization devoted to wish fulfillment. We are always looking for new people to help us fulfill our mission. In exchange for five years of loyal service, you'll be discharged with enough money to live comfortably, and whatever constitutes your happiness."

"You cannot provide what brings me happiness."

"You'd be surprised."

"And if my happiness means forgetting?"

He flipped the card over and gestured to the address on the back. "There's a lot more to this than I can say here. If you're interested, come see me, and we'll get a contract worked out."

He threw a few bills onto the table, stood with a knowing smile, and walked away, all while she sat and stared dumbly at the card. He had nothing to offer her, she tried to convince herself. There was no way any man or woman could make her forget the pain of her existence, or the knowledge of her failures. Rather than throw the card away, she tucked it into her pocket and walked calmly out onto the street. She would hold onto it, simply to have the option open, but she wouldn't act upon it.

A few days later, however, she found herself walking into a building without a name. The main lobby was full of smiling people focused on doing yoga, and other smiling people walking about without a care in the world. She envied how light their spirits must be. A woman with a clipboard directed her to a small office, where the blonde man from the coffee shop awaited her. His knowing smile hadn't disappeared.

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing you again."

0-0-0

Emma sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She'd done a number of online searches, but there was no website associated with this so-called Dollhouse company. If it was real, it certainly didn't rely on advertising to make its money. Her experience had taught her that places like this were likely more trouble than they were worth – but this was her only lead. She had to follow up on it because she needed to have something to tell Henry. Even if nothing came of the phone call, she'd be able to tell him that she was working hard and tracking down leads. He was beginning to lose hope, and she didn't enjoy hearing the sadness in his voice.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and punched the numbers in. If this was a legitimate business, then she'd have her answers sooner rather than later. If it wasn't… She sighed again. In any event, doing something felt good, and when a chipper female voice answered, she began the conversation with confidence.

"Is this Dollhouse?"

"Yes, of course. How may I direct your call?"

Emma licked her lips. "I'm looking for…" She trailed off. Her instinct told her that something wasn't right, despite the cheery answering service. Listening to her gut would mean doing things the sneaky way.

"Yes?"

"I'm looking for a job."

"As a doll or in security?"

"Security." Emma's lips quirked sideways. She didn't know what a doll was, but she knew she could crack heads if she needed to. "I've got a pretty extensive history in-"

"Please hold."

While she listened to the horrible music that blasted through the phone, Emma flipped the card between her fingers. This would be awful, she thought, if she were doing all of this, and Regina wasn't even there.

"State your business."

This man's voice was in stark contrast to the receptionist, but Emma pushed forward anyway. "My name is Emma Swan. I was told you were looking for security personnel. I have excellent references and a history of working with local law enforcement. My most recent job was as the sheriff of a small town up in Maine."

"Save it. Before we talk jobs, I need your information to run a background check. If you come up clear, then we'll talk."

She gave him the information he wanted with nary a word edgewise. All attempts at conversation were ignored, so she stopped trying. He would be more impressed, she decided, if she were more militant, so she gave short, precise answers. His tone at the end of the call was no more cordial than the start, but he promised to do the check and return her call as soon as possible.

She tossed the business card down and leaned back. This was probably a wild goose chase – but it was something other than wandering the streets of Boston. She was sick of doing that, and this at least gave her the stirrings of hope in her chest.


	3. Chapter 3

Emma straightened her clothing and frowned with irritation as the new shirt caused her skin to itch. She hadn't packed for an interview, so she had gone shopping the day before for something suitable – but she also didn't have time to properly clean the garments. Still, she looked rather slick and didn't want to complain. This would all be worth it, she thought, if this got her one step closer to her quarry.

She walked up to the building at the address she had been given. The front was a sheer, gray surface with nothing to designate it as a company; even the glass front doors were devoid of designation. Hoping she was in the right place, she entered and approached the front desk where a young woman was typing fervently at a computer. She leaned against the counter and smiled.

"I really don't know if I'm in the right spot – I'm here to interview for-"

"Down that hallway." The receptionist pointed to the right. "Second door on the right. They will need you to go through a metal detector on your way in and be prepared for a physical check of your belongings. Make sure you have your state issued identification readily available."

Emma dug into her pocket as she walked. This place was such a mystery, she mused as she tugged her wallet out. After removing her driver's license from inside, she shoved it back away and fiddled with the license as she walked. A cursory glance around the lobby revealed several blank-faced women performing various tasks. The smiles they wore gave Emma a chill, but she masked her expression with the ease of years of practice and continued on her way. If Regina was here, she needed to rescue the other woman posthaste – and hopefully no permanent damage had befallen the other woman.

She entered the room, where she was roughly guided through the procedures outlined by the woman out front. She thought the two men helping her were a bit too brusque, but she wasn't about to complain. By the time she took a seat in front of a sharp-eyed woman who glared at her from behind wire-framed glasses she almost felt a bit violated.

"I hope our procedures haven't unsettled you."

Emma lifted her head and tried to look unflustered. "I understand the need for security."

"Do you?"

"Well, in general, yes-

"Very well. Let's continue, shall we?" The woman glanced down at her clipboard; Emma cleared her throat and asked for the woman's name. "For the purposes of this interview, you may call me Ms."

"Ms.," Emma repeated. "Okay – so-"

"I'm asking the questions."

So much for gathering perfunctory information, she thought. She sighed, settled back, and answered every invasive question as concisely and clearly as she could. Mixed in with the typical interview questions, which she had heard a million times before, were several questions that nearly confused her.

"Are you able to guard a person without forming a personal attachment?"

"Ah – yes? I think. My guarding in the past has been more general, but I have been in situations that required me to do my duty even though those I care about were in danger. There was a time when-"

"Thank you." Ms. scratched a note on her clipboard. "And how long have you been working for the police department?"

"Four years."

"Why are you seeking other employment?"

"I work closely with family up north, and I thought it was time for a change. You mentioned attachment earlier – well, I'm ready to detach."

The interview continued in much the same fashion until Ms. finally asked if Emma had any questions of her own. There was too much to ask in one sitting, but Emma realized she ought to limit the scope of her inquiry for the time being. "What exactly would my duties be?"

"The position for which we are currently hiring is the personal guard for one of our dolls. The employee will attend to the doll's needs as she completes her jobs – duties will range depending upon the situation. We are looking for someone flexible, dependable, and able."

"What benefits come with the position?" Emma tried to sound like any other person attempting to land a job, but her curiosity was raging. She leaned forward, interested in what Ms. was writing on her clipboard, but the stoic woman tilted out of the way and blocked Emma's view. Emma sighed and ran her hands along her thighs in an attempt to look nonchalant.

"You'll receive a bimonthly paycheck with insurance benefits. In addition, those on security detail are offered an employee discount if doll services are ever desired. The job is fifty hours a week, though you may be required to work odd hours."

"What do dolls do?"

"Whatever is requested. Are you quite done?"

Not at all, Emma thought, but she nodded curtly. "Thank you for your time, Ms."

"We will be in touch if you are deemed to be fit for the position. You may see yourself out."

Emma rose, extended her hand, and then backed away when Ms. merely stared her down. She offered a smile before exiting and heading back toward the main lobby. This time, she gave the room a more thorough look over, just in case she wasn't invited back. Women milled about, but none looked familiar – none until Regina entered the room and joined the woman doing yoga. Her eyes fell on Emma, and for a moment, Emma's heart leapt. She swallowed hard and thought about raising her hand.

Regina's eyes, though, registered no recognition. She simply eased into the pose her fellows were currently holding. Emma clenched her hand into a fist and resisted the urge to rush over. Her best bet at the moment was to wait for the phone call and hope that they hired her. That would get her closer, and she could then see about what rescue measures would be appropriate, if any. Maybe, she thought, this was what Regina wanted.

0-0-0

She flopped onto the bed in her hotel room and let out a gust of air. Following her instincts had yielded results, but she wasn't sure what she was going to tell Henry. He wouldn't understand that she had seen Regina and done nothing – he would want to know why she had walked away instead of grabbing Regina and running. If she were honest with herself, she was also wondering why she had chosen to leave Regina there.

The reason, she determined, was the emptiness in Regina's eyes. Had there been any sign that Regina knew who she was, she could have attempted a conversation – but instead, Regina had dark pits for eyes, like a great white shark's or a doll's. Emma ran a hand through her hair and sat upright. She fumbled for her phone, deciding that putting off the inevitable wasn't going to make it any easier. She never knew what to say to people, but somehow the right stuff tended to pop out.

The phone rang so long that she was almost sure she'd get voicemail; the tongue-tied idiot in her hoped desperately for this outcome, as spitting out a short 'I've got a lead, kid, but I'm not sure yet where I'm going' was a lot easier than fielding questions, admitting ignorance, and apologizing for not having more to report. When he answered, she tried to fend off the disappointment.

"Emma, hey."

"How're you doing, kid?"

"I'm okay." He hesitated and then added, "I miss you."

She cringed; she had been enjoying her freedom from family and responsibility, but he was likely feeling alone. She so often forgot that she had someone so dependent upon her. In the past she had promised herself that she would be better to him, but nothing ever came of those empty words muttered in the middle of the night.

"Yes, me, too."

If he sensed how insincere her words were, he didn't seem to care. "David was teaching me some sword fighting techniques. I know he was just a shepherd before her married Snow, but he's got some good moves. He says hi, by the way."

"Tell him hi back for me."

Henry shouted her greeting over his shoulder, muting the sound for Emma who took a moment to try and parse together some words about her progress. He was distracted – that was good, she thought, because he might not dig too deep into what she was doing.

"So what have you found?"

Emma wrinkled her nose. "Well, I think I have a lead – nothing certain, mind you, but I have a direction at the moment."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He waited a moment for her to elaborate without his prodding and then asked, "Well?"

"Well, I got a tip that she might be working for a company down here. I checked it out today, and the lead seems solid."

"But you didn't find her yet?" His voice lowered in both tone and volume. "You have to find her, Emma. You have to bring her home."

"What if I can't?" The question popped out before she could stop it. Now that it had been said, though, a torrent of self-doubt spewed out. "Am I that bad a mom that you need her back? Kid, chances are slim that if I find her, she'll even want to come home. You don't leave in the middle of the night just so that someone can say 'Hey, come back please' and change your mind."

He sat in silence for a few minutes – she'd wonder if he hung up except for quiet sound of breathing. She knew pretty immediately that she shouldn't have dumped her anxieties onto him – she was, after all, the parent and he the child, so she should listen to his fears, not burden him with hers. Still, he was the one who wanted Regina home most, and he was the one who would suffer most when she failed.

"You'll bring her home," he eventually replied. "Somehow. You're the savior, and she's part of my happy ending. Didn't you say you were gonna make sure everyone in Storybrooke got theirs? You wouldn't let me down like that."

She had been hoping for absolution, or some statement along the lines of 'It's okay, Emma. If you can't get her to come home, I'll still love you and be happy,' but his response just reapplied the pressure. Rather than let her off the hook, he made Regina's return of the utmost import. She swallowed roughly and switched the phone to her other ear.

"I'm going to do my best, don't get me wrong. I just… I'm not so sure she'll be happy to see me."

"Maybe not. But you're pretty persuasive, Ma."

She flinched at the title and was glad he couldn't see her. If for no other reason than she didn't feel adequate as a parent, she was going to have to convince Regina to come home. Henry needed Regina, and she was figuring out that she did, too. She nodded and sighed.

"I'll give it my best try, kid, and I'll keep you updated, okay?"

"I…" He trailed off. Before she could prompt him to finish, he started a completely different sentence. "David is waving his sword around pretty wildly – I better go back to practicing with him so he doesn't hurt anybody. Talk to you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

"Love you."

"You, too."

She tossed the phone aside, let out an exasperated grunt, and pawed at her forehead. The kid knew how to twist her emotional arm behind her back and force her where he wanted her to be. He was definitely Regina's kid, which was reason enough to keep moving forward with her current plan. Hopefully she'd land the job and figure out a way to get into contact with the other woman, no matter how blank-faced Regina seemed. Regina might not have seen her, she reasoned, so she'd just have to get back there and try again.


	4. Chapter 4

"Welcome to Boston's Dollhouse."

Her tour guide was a smiling brunette who walked backwards with arms spread. The other woman's expression looked practiced, Emma noticed, and hardly genuine. The nametag on her chest read BETTY, general manager, but she had told Emma to call her B. This was another forced nicety that made Emma want to roll her eyes.

"Thanks. So when do I-"

"I am to give you a tour of the facilities, but I have not been instructed to answer your questions. You'll have to wait."

Emma grunted and followed Betty around the building. She kept her eyes peeled for Regina, but she never managed to sight the surly, missing woman. Instead she tried to keep track of how many different people were milling about. All of them were attractive, but none were particularly memorable. This place sure had a lot mysteries, she mused.

"Here is where I leave you." Betty gestured to a broad door behind her. "Once you enter this room, your duties will begin."

"Yeah, but nobody really told me what those are yet?"

Betty shrugged and walked away. Emma straightened her uniform, lifted her chin, and let out a deep sigh. She approached the door and, when it had slid open, stepped into the room beyond. Computers buzzed and beeped around her, but her attention was entirely focused on the slim woman lying on a table in the middle of the room. The blonde had blank eyes and a wide smile. Emma swallowed hard.

"Ah!" A thin, whippy man waved his hand to gain her attention. "You must be Swan!"

"Emma, yes." Emma stretched her hand out to greet him, but he had already turned to the girl on the table. Emma stepped closer curiously and asked, "So, uh, who's this?"

"This is your new charge, Brooke." He trailed his fingers down her cheek, a move which Emma found unsettling – but the girl simply smiled wider and giggled. "I'll need you to hold her hand."

"I still don't really know what this is about. Nobody's answered any questions. All I know is that I'm supposed to guard her –"

He sighed and leaned against the nearest row of machines. "Here's the quick rundown, Swan. These girls, these dolls, they're blank slates. They're pads of fresh college-lined notebooks. They're fields of freshly fallen snow. Get it?"

"Not really." Emma eyed him closely. "They're people, not these inanimate objects you're listing."

He rubbed a hand along the computer. "Sure, they're people. They're just people onto whom we can download information. Say you know a guy who loves rock climbing, but he just can't find that right girl to go rock climbing with. A call to us, and we can find a girl who fits his type, teach her to climb, and rent her company out by the hour."

"So this is prostitution-"

He waved a hand. "Some people are looking for sex, but there are cheaper alternatives. No, what we provide here is an experience, not a few hours in a cheap motel."

"What sort of experience?"

"Absolutely anything – short, of course, of hurting one of our dolls. There have been a few… unfortunate occurrences in the past, but we've dealt with them. We have a pretty good screening process that weeds out most of the weirdos. Haven't you ever wanted to show up somewhere with someone who'll impress your friends? Or maybe you've dreamed about the perfect outing – but all you're missing is the perfect person to go with you? Or maybe you just need something special, like someone to negotiate with a kidnapper without getting the police involved.

"We are not some brothel, Swan, though there's nothing wrong with those. We are Dollhouse, and we provide so much more than you might expect."

Emma stood silently for a moment and then cleared her throat. "So my job is to watch after her as she goes out with these Johns?"

"Eh, drop the prostitution analogy, but otherwise I think you've got it."

"So what's going on now?"

"As I said, our dolls are clean and fresh and ready for new things. When they first come in, we wipe them clean of their personality. They agree, mind you, and we'd never force the procedure on anyone-"

"I'm not here as moral judgment," she interrupted, "so stop covering your ass and tell me what happens."

His lips twitched. "Once they're clean, we're good to go in and put in whatever personality we need for any given task. Upon completion of a job, we wipe them again. They don't remember who they were, or where they've been. The thing is, we need someone there to take them home when a job is complete. We need someone they always recognize to keep them safe and at ease. It's about trust, Swan. Brooke here will always trust you, and that's ultimately for her protection and safety."

Emma tentatively took Brooke's hand. "She's okay with this?"

"Oh, yes," Brooke replied. "You look very friendly. Very nice."

As Brooke tittered, Emma turned to look at the man. "How does it work?"

"The wiping?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I won't bore you with the science mumbo-jumbo, but they just forget everything they were."

"They don't remember anything?" The hope that had been residing in her belly began to curl in on itself and die. "Nobody they knew? Nothing like that?"

"We've had a few… odd cases in the past. Actives who suddenly start acting a bit like a past personality, but it's nothing that a thorough inspection and subsequent wipe won't fix."

So, Emma thought, maybe she could remind Regina, if Regina truly was one of the active dolls here. "And what are we doing right now?"

"I have to make some minor tweaks in her mind. The handler-active imprint requires direct line of sight, so I need you to look her in the eye and read this."

She accepted a piece of paper from him and scanned it. Though she thought this whole thing was ethically ambiguous, she needed to get closer to Regina. She wrinkled her nose and said, "Everything's going to be alright."

"Now that you're here," Brooke replied. There was a tenor of something small and frightened in her voice, which was the first sign of humanity the girl had exhibited. There was a scant few seconds when Emma considered stopping the whole thing – but if not her, then there would be someone else holding this girl's hand.

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

Emma dropped Brooke's hand as soon as she was given permission. This girl needed protection, she convinced herself, because whatever process was used had likely stripped away any and all survival instincts. If this was what had become of Regina, then she hoped Regina's handler was as devoted to her well-being as she was to Brooke's.

"You'll get a call when she's going out. In the meantime, you'll need to look over the handbook of policies and procedures. If you have any questions, don't ask me." He smiled sardonically and gestured to the door. Emma nodded and headed out.

0-0-0

Now that she had a name badge, nobody bothered her as she roamed the building. There were definitely rooms into which she was not allowed. Doors were locked, and dirty looks were sent her way when she got too curious – so she did her best to respect boundaries for the time being. She was a new hire, and she didn't want to attract the wrong sort of attention. Whenever she had free time, she was going to search for Regina, she resolved.

She moved from area to area and watched the dolls interact. Blank slates was certainly the right term, she thought. They were empty-headed creatures who spoke with one another, turned away, and said nearly identical sentiments to whosoever wandered along next. Their topics ranged from how to be better to how nice lunch had been, though nobody could quite remember what lunch had actually been.

After half an hour of aimlessly drifting about, Emma spotted Regina seated at a small table with two other dolls. Each had a plate of salad before her, and they were chatting with each other in muted tones. Regina looked – Emma cast her gaze away to get a grip on her emotions before glancing back – Regina looked happy. There was no weight on this woman's shoulders, no frown tugging at the corner of her lips.

Maybe she shouldn't interfere. Emma leaned against a wall and kept her eyes trained on Regina's light-hearted conversation. She had never seen Regina so pleased. Once their meal was done, Emma gathered her courage and walked over. She smiled at Regina, who smiled blankly back.

"Hello," Regina greeted. "Can we help you?"

"I was just curious what your name was."

"Echo."

"That's very pretty."

"Thank you." Regina's voice was as flat as her demeanor. She stood when her fellows did and walked away without another word.

0-0-0

Emma fiddled with her pen and stared down at the few notes she had jotted – the top of the page was titled All About Regina Mills, and its content was a list of all the characteristics and traits she could think of to describe the other woman. From what she had learned, there was a slim chance that Regina could be reminded of her past. All Emma had to do was construct the right personality, and hope that luck was on their side.

Again, though, karma was a bit of a bitch, so Emma did her best to temper her hope with her cynical realism. This was a long shot, at best. On top of her doubts about her success rate, she was also starting to doubt if Regina wanted to be rescued. The dolls weren't there through duress or force; whatever had led Regina to signing that contract, it must have been Regina's own desire. Trying to decide what was best for the other woman was uncomfortable, and Emma hated the exercise.

She wished she knew more about why Regina had left Storybrooke to begin with. The note Henry had was brief and not very informational, so Emma's best guess was that the teenaged, snot-nosed brats had all but chased Regina out of town. Maybe if she'd been more vigilant, or if she'd exacted a more damaging punishment, they'd have stopped what they were doing. Maybe, she thought. Pondering the what-ifs of the situation was pointless.

The fact was that Regina was an active doll, and Emma could either attempt a rescue, or sit idly by and wait.

Emma set her pen down. According to the information in her handbook, dolls were active for a standard five years. That was too long to be away from Henry, but maybe she could bring him with her to Boston. She could work for Dollhouse until Regina's contract was up, and then she and Henry could approach her. That wasn't what Henry wanted, though, and she didn't want to wait that long, either. If she was going to get through to Regina, she was going to act quickly – she was a doer, not a waiter, and she was feeling a little helpless with the way things were going.

She firmed her resolve. She was going to hire Regina, if she could, and see what she could coax out of the other woman. The first word on her list was stern mother. She decided on a cover story, called work, and crossed her fingers. Thankfully, those in charge of setting up were used to requests for specific dolls, especially from employees. She barely had to mutter Regina's doll-name before she was harried for further details about what she wanted. She spat out a number of traits, unsure of what the protocol was. The woman was curt but polite in guiding her through the process, and by the time they ended the call, Emma was exhausted.

Please, she thought, let this all be worth it. She had a date on the following Tuesday with a woman who would help her take care of her two year old nephew. Now all she needed was to borrow her brother.


	5. Chapter 5

As she prepared to meet Regina at the park, Emma listened to Henry's excited babbling. According to him, she was incredibly close to finishing her quest – finding Regina meant that she was moments away from returning home no matter how many times she explained to him that things were more complex than he knew. She found Regina, yes, but she couldn't yet reach Regina. That, in his opinion, was a minor detail. She foresaw several months of effort ahead; he saw a couple of days, a week tops.

"Will you tell her I miss her?"

"Kid, she doesn't necessarily – like I told you – she's, well, she doesn't remember," Emma said, stuttering along. She didn't want to tell him the entirety of what was happening, as she didn't think he could handle the truth. Despite the scientist's words to the contrary, she still felt like Dollhouse was prostitution for the very rich or very desperate.

"So, you just need to break the curse, right?"

"This isn't… Maybe?" Emma cleared her throat. "Even if that were the way to fix things, we don't have anyone who could deliver True Love's Kiss. And I'm not exactly an expert on curses."

"Do you want me to talk to Mr. Gold?"

"Oh, gosh no." Emma straightened her shirt before turning to Neal, who was sucking on his thumb and slumbering. She brushed his hair from his forehead, which woke him up. To keep him from crying, she hoisted him into her arms and rocked him to and fro. Once he was settled, she hefted the bag of his supplies onto her shoulder and headed for the door. "We don't need to owe him anything, okay?"

"Okay…"

"Look, kid, I'm heading off to start-"

"Operation Elephant."

"Elephant?"

"Because of her memory." She could practically hear the beam in his voice. "An elephant never forgets, and my mom hasn't either. I just know it."

Emma wished she were half as certain. She walked down the street toward the park with the phone trapped between her ear and her shoulder. He continued chattering on about how well things were going, and she allowed him to do so until she entered the park. Though he was mid-sentence, she said, "Kid, listen, I just got to where I was going. We'll have to finish this conversation later, okay?"

"Oh, okay… I love you."

"You, too."

"Oh, one last thing. Snow wants to talk to you."

"She already told me everything I needed to know when I picked Neal up Sunday night."

"She just wants to say hi."

Emma plopped down on a bench to wait and sighed, "Okay, put her on."

She heard jostling and muted chatter before Snow's voice rang out, "How's he doing?"

Emma bounced Neal on her knee. "He's fine. Just like the last five times you called, Snow."

"I'm just worried. Why can't I be there with you?"

"Just like I told you the last five times you called, I can't have too many variables at play here. This mission requires precision and control, and I can't keep track of Neal, you, and everything else all at once," Emma lied. Calling what she was doing a mission was definitely a stretch of her imagination, but she needed to sound confident. At any sign of weakness, Snow would attempt to take over.

"I know… It's just hard being separated from him."

Emma wondered if Snow had ever felt this badly about sending her infant daughter through a portal. Rather than ask, though, she brushed the issue aside and said, "I'll let you know how things are going, okay? But it's just about go-time, so I need to hang up and finish preparations."

"Okay. But can I speak with him for a second?"

Emma rolled her eyes and held the phone to his ear. He giggled happily as his mother rained praises down unto him and subsequently nearly burst into tears when Emma ended the call. She tweaked his nose and kissed his forehead, which was enough to bring the smile back to his chubby cheeks.

"Em-ma! No!"

"Kid, you're about to meet someone really important, okay?" Emma let him grab her pointer finger and groaned as he jammed the tip into his mouth. "So I need you to be the best kid ever, okay? But then, you also have to be a little bad. She's going to help me learn how to take care of you."

"Bad!" He spat her finger out and grinned with enough mischief that Emma began to worry that she had made the wrong request. She ought to have just left him alone – he'd have no doubt begun to start trouble all on his own.

"Emma?"

Emma's head snapped up and looked around the fairly empty park. She wasn't used to that voice using her first name, let alone greeting her with that much pleasure. She lifted a hand as Regina approached. "It's nice to see you, Re- Amy!"

"So is this your little nephew?"

"This is Neal." Emma lifted him up, and he started to squall. Regina took a seat beside her on the park bench and eased the toddler from her hands. Neal looked suspiciously at her until she dangled her fingers in front of his face and wiggled them. He grabbed at them, chortling all the while. "You're good with him."

"I had a son many years ago."

"What happened?"

Regina offered her a sad smile. Her shoulders tensed, raising up until they were nearly level with her earlobes. "There was an accident. He went on, as he called them, an adventure, but he didn't tell me. I found a note later saying that he was going off to find his father in New York. A car was driving too quickly down the road when he ran out. I… I'm sure you can guess the rest."

Emma winced. She hadn't included those details in her request, so either the personality Regina had been given had similar origins, or some part of Regina was still there. She wasn't sure which, though, so she kept her excitement to a minimum. She was going to use this meeting as a small test – she'd check in with 'Echo' back at Dollhouse and see if any personality traits had remained. If they had, then she'd repeat this test. If they hadn't… She didn't want to think about that possibility. Staying positive was all she could manage at that particular moment.

"They're cute when they're this small, huh?" She changed topics as deftly as she could and felt relief filter through her as Regina's posture relaxed.

"I prefer when they're just a bit older." Her lips quivered, but she continued on. "Don't get me wrong, Neal, but in a few years, when you're nine or so, you'll have a mind all your own."

Neal blew a spit bubble at her. Emma snorted and reached into her baby bag; she tugged a washcloth out and handed it to Regina, who wiped the spittle from her cheek before booping the tip of Neal's nose with a fingertip. Emma wondered if Regina had been this patient with Henry. She didn't know much about his childhood, other than his skewed perceptions of his later years when everything Regina did was horrible and proof that she was the Evil Queen.

"Thanks for coming out to help me. It's the first time I've had to watch him alone. I was just so out of my element." Emma accepted the cloth again and tossed it into the pocket designated for dirty things. Thankfully, he had recently graduated from diapers to big boy undies, and he hadn't soiled them yet. There was another pair with the Superman symbol across the front, but she really didn't want to deal with urine or feces. He was her brother, not her kid, and she didn't want to touch that sort of stuff. That was, she thought, the only benefit of someone else raising Henry. She got to skip the gross stuff, even if it meant missing out on the good stuff as well.

Regina cuddled Neal to her chest and closed her eyes. "I was glad to come out. Working as a nanny is difficult but rewarding. There is nothing more precious than children."

"Hm." Emma turned her head to watch a small blonde girl slip down the slide. She frowned as she began to realize that this just wasn't Regina. This was someone with the same tenderness that Regina had toward Henry, but this wasn't Regina. "I guess…"

Neal soon began to snore, and when Emma glanced back, Regina's fingers were curled tightly into his tiny blue t-shirt. From what Emma had seen in photograph albums, Neal looked somewhat like Henry had at that age, so now she felt as though she were glimpsing the past.

"He's a good boy," Regina demurred. She hugged Neal closer and smiled. The expression was so entirely peaceful that Emma wasn't sure that this person before her had ever been the Regina she knew back in Storybrooke.

"And you're good with him."

"I'm a nanny," Regina replied. "That's what I'm paid to be each and every day."

"Really?" Emma drew in a short breath before asking, "So, never wanted to do anything else?"

"What do you mean?"

"You never wanted to, say, get into politics? It's been childcare since day one?"

"Yes."

"See, I think you'd make a good ruler of some sort."

"What?"

Emma flushed. "Like a mayor or something."

Regina looked at her with no recognition. "No, I can't say the thought has ever crossed my mind. I'm quite comfortable and happy working with children. This career is the one I find most rewarding."

"Oh." Emma rubbed Neal' back to give herself something to do with her hands. "I'm glad you're happy doing it."

"Did you have any specific questions?" Regina flushed as their hands brushed. Emma noted this with a small amount of confusion. "About taking care of Neal, I mean."

"Oh. I'm struggling to get him to eat his food. He really doesn't like peas."

Regina chuckled, and Emma felt her stomach heating pleasantly. This definitely wasn't Regina, she thought, though this person wasn't entirely awful to be around.

"Have you tried-"

"I've tried everything." Emma tried to regain control over the situation. She couldn't pay attention to her feelings for this not-Regina person; she had to remain focused on getting the real-Regina back. "Maybe you'd like to try?"

"I'll do my best."

Emma went into her pack once more and found his afternoon snack. Regina pried the lid off, removed three Cheerios, and roused Neal with a soothing hum. Neal yawned, stretching his grubby fists over his head and then slamming them down against Regina. He had no real power, so this did no real damage, and Regina booped his nose once more.

"Hey, baby," she cooed. "Can you open your big boy mouth?"

His lips remained sealed, so Regina tickled under his chin. Neal let out a guttural laugh. When his mouth was open, Regina popped the Cheerios in. Emma nodded, impressed with how well Regina handled the handful that was her brother.

"Dang. I've begged, pleaded, talked, cajoled, and ordered, and he never listens to me. One of my friends even suggested I, uh, bite his ear to establish dominance." Emma blushed and shook her head. "I didn't listen to her, but I was getting a little desperate."

"My son used to be a picky eater as well."

"Yeah?"

"He would eat most sweet things, but put something green on his plate, and his appetite supposedly disappeared. You learn tricks to make sure their diets remain balanced, especially when they're so small. Nutrition is everything."

"You must have been a great parent." Emma knew how true that statement was but kept herself from spewing out more of what she knew. Trying once more to discern if there was any Regina in this woman, she asked, "What was the name of your son?"

Regina nuzzled Neal and replied, "Henry."


	6. Chapter 6

As Brooke ate dinner and flirted with her John, Emma sat in a van just down the street. Her eyes were trained on the map with the constant blip alerting her to Brooke's exact position, but her mind was back at Dollhouse, where Regina may or may not have been. Her fists tightened against her thighs as she realized that Regina could very well have been out on a date as well. Emma wasn't sure why, but the idea that Regina was smiling and laughing for some other person was minutely irritating.

Emma didn't like those thoughts, especially given that she wasn't entirely sure how to get Regina back – there was no use wasting her time being jealous over a relationship that had not happened and might never for that matter. They'd both made their choices already, and now Emma was left to clean up the mess. That was fairly typical, she considered, but she was definitely getting sick of being everyone's go-to problem solver.

Being out here on here own was a boon as much as it was a burden; while she was working to help Henry and Regina, she was also far away from the residents of Storybrooke who would no doubt have otherwise been inundating her with requests, ranging from intervening in a decade old blood feud to using her stupid magic to undo damage from a storm. Requests from Snow were the worst as Emma still wasn't sure what she felt about Snow or the entire situation. She felt like she had to help, but underneath it all, she wasn't sure Snow deserved her assistance.

There wasn't anyone in Storybrooke who actually felt like a friend. At the end of the day, that's what made living there difficult. Everyone wanted something, and she wasn't capable of doing everything. Even something as small as being a mother to Henry was overwhelming, and she wasn't sure how long she could keep the act up. Whenever he called these days to check on her progress, she didn't know what to say to him, and she didn't look forward to hearing his voice.

Part of her felt badly about this; he was, after all, her offspring, and he had worked so hard to get her into his life. That she wanted some space felt like some sort of sin, a feeling that was intensified by the fact that her own parents had given her up and now wanted a relationship. She ought to be the same way.

She focused her eyes on the screen once more. She wasn't too different from these dolls, she thought. She too was acting like someone she wasn't in order to impress and please other people. Unlike them though, she had to live with her thoughts and her loneliness. Given that thought, she sort of understood the draw of having her memories wiped.

Damn doing what everyone else wanted, she decided. When she went out with Regina again, she was going to have some fun and try to forget all the looming pressures overhead. She deserved a break –

Her phone jingled, so she tugged the device free from her pocket; upon seeing the caller was Henry, she considered not answering. She had just made the decision to free herself from the demands of others, and yet she couldn't stop her thumb from pressing the button to accept the call.

"Hey, kid."

"When are you coming home?"

She shrugged. "Like I said before, this isn't the easiest extraction."

"Did you tell her that I want her to come home? She'd definitely listen to that."

"Like I tried telling you before – this is like when people crossed the barrier before. She's not who she was, and I'm not sure how to bring her back. I'm working on it though. You just have to have faith. You used to believe in me, didn't you? Why'd you stop?"

There was a moment of silence before he responded. "It's not that I don't believe in you."

"So what is it?"

"She's my mom, Emma." Henry's voice hitched. "I told her too much that I didn't want her around, and I never got to take that all back. I need you to bring her home."

Emma sank lower in her chair; he hadn't meant to cause this much guilt, she was sure, but he definitely knew how to tug on her heartstrings. She grimaced. "I'm doing my best. I promise, kid."

"Will you promise to call me more? Even if just to tell me that nothing's new?"

Sensing that he needed something, she said, "If that's what you want."

This response seemed to be good enough; his tone brightened immediately. "Yes!"

"Well, kid, I'm working right now, and I sort of need to focus."

"Oh. Okay. Talk to you soon?"

"Sure."

"Love you!"

"You, too," she replied. She hung up and pressed the edge of the cell phone to her forehead.

0-0-0

"I've never been to a zoo before," Regina stated dryly. She didn't look to be all that comfortable, but Emma had requested a personality that was a bit stiff at first.

"Well, then today is your lucky day. You get a guided tour of the Franklin Park Zoo by an ex-employee."

"You used to work here?"

"Well, sort of. I spent a lot of time here when I was younger, so I pretty much did." Emma omitted that she had been tracking a bail-jumper down, and she hadn't liked spending so much time in a place that smelled strongly of animal byproducts. "What's your favorite animal?"

"I've always liked horses. I know they aren't the wildest of creatures, but they have a certain elegance and grace about them that I find appealing."

"Good thing the zoo has a section for horses, but I definitely would have thought you'd like the lions or something."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, you strike me as someone pretty regal…?"

"This is our first date, and you're already making assumptions about me." Regina cocked an eyebrow and settled her hands on her hips. "Interesting."

"I just – you strike me as someone whose used to getting her way."

"While I wish that were true, I'm afraid not." Regina gestured for Emma to begin walking. "Most of my life has been dictated by others."

That was somewhat reminiscent of her Regina, so Emma decided to push a bit harder. "Oh? Like in what ways?"

"My mother had decided early on that I was to do something with my life. Not just any something, either. Something important. In her eyes that was pursuing a career in politics, an area in which I was not individually interested. However, as she was the one paying for my education, I was forced to major in political science for my undergraduate degree, and eventually to pursue a juris doctor for my graduate studies. My father's firm hired me on at her command until I had enough experience to run for Congress."

"Well, it's impressive, even if it didn't make you happy. That's a lot of learning, and not just anyone could get as far as you did in a field they didn't like."

"Perhaps." Regina flapped a hand dismissively. "When one decides to do something, one should follow through with everything one has, regardless of how one feels."

"Go big or go home, huh?"

"Precisely."

"So are you ready to spend an entire day here? Because now that we're here, we should probably make sure to see all of the animals."

Regina's lips quirked up. "I suppose I can't say no after the rousing speech I just gave you."

When Emma laughed, she was surprised by how natural the sound was. She was actually have a good time, she discovered, and this version of Regina wasn't too far off the original. She had to remind herself though that this Regina was still incomplete. Yet seeing Regina acting like this gave her a bit of hope that the real Regina was still buried somewhere inside.

"My favorite animal is the noble giraffe, and we're right by them – so mind if we start there?"

"You're the travel guide today, Ms. Swan."

Emma bit down on her inner cheek as she led the way toward the enclosure. She hadn't been called Ms. Swan in sometime now, and the small reminder of their joint history sent a shot of excitement through her.

"Then I will do my best to provide you with a quality outing today." Emma offered Regina her hand and linked their fingers as soon as Regina accepted. She hadn't expected Regina's hands to be so soft, but she supposed that living at Dollhouse had provided more than a few amenities; the work was strange, but the living was easy. "From there, we'll work our way around the zoo – pausing only for lunch and the occasional photograph – and hopefully get everything in before dark."

Regina's hand squeezed hers, and she had to fight to keep her strict composure. Thankfully, as they were on a date, any nerves could be explained away quite easily.

"Very well."

0-0-0

Emma waited for Henry to pick up and sorted through all the possible things she could say to him. After spending time with Regina, her desire to be a better parent had been reinstated, and she was determined to at least try to fulfill his wishes.

"You called?" He sounded startled at first, but she tried not to focus on that. "Thanks, Emma."

"No problem, kid. I went to the zoo with your mom today."

"I thought you were supposed to be getting her to come home."

"I'm going to be honest with you, okay? I haven't been one hundred percent truthful because I didn't know how to say it, but I think you deserve the truth."

"Okay."

"She got a job here with this really shady company. What they do is take people, wipe their memories, and use them for like five years as sort of wish-fulfillment rentals. Your mom doesn't remember who she is because they took that away from her. So what I've been doing is renting her out when I can to see if there's any part of her left inside, or if we'll have to wait until they release her at the end of her contract."

"Oh…"

"Kid, I'm doing my best. But there's not exactly a hero's manual for this sort of thing. It's sorta something you figure out on the fly."

"Has she been – have you seen…?"

"I think there's some part of her still in there," Emma replied. She rubbed her temple with her free hand. "I don't know how to fully get at that part of her, but I've seen glimpses. She said she had a son named Henry on our first outing, and she used a number of personal details in her backstory when we were at the zoo. I think that means she's in there. But I just don't know for sure."

"I sort of thought you were avoiding coming home," he admitted. "You were taking so long that I thought you didn't want to be here anymore, and this was an excuse to stay gone."

She winced. "I'm not going to lie, kid. Being away has been a bit refreshing. All the crazy stuff that happens in town is exhausting. But I don't like being away from you. I'm doing my best to bring your mom home as soon as I can, but it's just not as simple as I'd hoped."

"I'm sorry I was so pushy."

"Kid, I know this isn't the best situation for you, and I'm sorry I've been sorta crappy about everything. I don't know how to be your mother, and your real mother isn't around right now. But I'm doing my best on both issues."

"I know. So when's your next time with her? What are you going to do with her?"

"I'm not sure yet. I put her in the position of being a mother and a tentative friend, so my goal is to try and coax out her other character traits."

"Take her horseback riding," he advised. "It'll work, I promise."

"I will."

"I need to go eat dinner. I love you, Emma."

"Love you, too, kid."


	7. Chapter 7

BEFORE. Sighing deeply, Regina considered her options. There was a certain appeal to deleting her life as she knew it. She had, after all, done something similar in cursing everyone to this world in the first place. One of the things holding her back was the idea that trying to start over hadn't been particularly successful the first time. Now, though, she had the chance to erase everything she hated about herself and her past. This time, she could actually start fresh.

She wasn't sure she wanted to get rid of her memories of Henry. They were exquisitely painful, which is why she was debating about destroying them in the first place. Still, he had been the only god aspect of her life for many years. Living without him was proving tougher than she ever anticipated—so relieving herself of that burden might have been for the best. Perhaps, she argued, that burden was the price she had to pay for leaving him.

She grimaced and made her decision. All magic had a price, she determined, and she'd been paying her entire life. At least the cost of this relief was something she could manage. Five years was all Dollhouse wanted. She could delete herself for five years if that meant the pain went away.

The man, Topher, wasn't surprised to see her, a fact that made her nearly rethink her decision. This was a company that seemingly preyed on desperate men and women with nowhere else to turn, and she was nothing if not self-reliant. The feeling that she wanted to run remained with her even as she let him strap her down to a table. He adjusted the device that encircled her head and smiled down at her.

"Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life."

She curled her hands into tight fists and tried to keep her breathing steady. She deserved a break, she told herself. She deserved the prize she would receive for her service. A jolt of pain zapped into her temples and rushed down her spine, causing her to whimper. Henry, she thought. She couldn't forget him. She shouldn't. She squeezed her eyes shut as the pain intensified. No matter what, she promised herself, she'd hold onto Henry. What she was doing was a mistake. She needed to stop this whole thing and go back to…

Henry? She began to relax. The name was so familiar. Perhaps she'd known a Henry once, she considered. The name brought with it such good feelings. He had probably been a nice man. Tears prickled at her eyes. He was good, but he made her so sad. Her stomach tossed and turned, while her heart thud-thud-thudded. She ought to cry, but she couldn't. She didn't like feeling this sad.

She didn't have to be sad, she realized. She wasn't even sure what had caused her to feel so horrible in the first place—a name, was it? Some person she used to know? What was his name? Although she was certain she was supposed to remember something, she simply couldn't make her brain cooperate. Oh well, she thought. If the thing made her sad, she didn't have to pay attention to it anyway. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She liked the ceiling. It was a rather calming off-white, and the man who helped her sit up was so nice as well.

"How are you feeling, Echo?"

"Echo?"

"That's your name," he said as he gently took her arm and guided her to the door. "You've just had a bit of an accident. You'll be fine though. You should go get some lunch and try to feel better."

"Thank you so much," she replied.

"No problem, Echo. If you don't feel any better by tomorrow, be sure to come back, okay?"

She nodded and wandered into the building. Part of her felt as though she'd been here for her entire life, though there was an uneasy feeling in her gut that she shouldn't know where she was going. This was, she decided, just part of the accident she'd suffered, and nothing to worry about. This was her home, and it always had been.

0-0-0

There was something familiar about this woman who so brazenly called her out. The blonde hair and smart grin niggled in her brain, as if she ought to know who this person was. The woman asked her name, and she responded. There, she told herself. If they knew each other, then there was no reason for the woman to ask her name. Except that the woman looked disappointed by her response. Maybe the woman did know her. Maybe she did know the woman.

The thought immediately disappeared as her stomach rumbled. She turned and headed for the dining hall where she was sure to find a salad and good company. After eating, she could go and exercise. Taking care of herself and feeling good were imperatives, and she deserved the nicer things in life. Living here was as good as things got, she thought proudly.

0-0-0

"I don't understand why you like giraffes," she commented. Truly, they were gangly creatures with odd features and no grace.

Emma watched her closely. The woman was always doing that, she thought, and she had no idea why. "Why? What animal do you think suits me?"

"I suppose I associate you with lion as well—not for the reason you thought I would like them, but because you remind me of a lioness in some respects. You put in a good deal of work, while the male lions lounge about and fight over territory. You're capable of doing whatever you to do in order to protect those around you."

"That's pretty keen insight." Emma smiled. "Almost like you've known me a lot longer than you actually have."

She paused for a moment, pondering the statement. She spoke with such certainty about Emma's characteristics, but she had nothing to base these assumptions on. As far as she knew, their only interactions had been this afternoon at the zoo. Yet, she just knew that what she said was true. There was no question in her mind that Emma was exactly as she described.

"Perhaps we are kindred spirits," she eventually responded.

"Yeah, maybe. I feel like I've known you a long time, too. Like, at least five years."

"That's an odd estimation."

Emma shrugged, tucked her hands in her pockets, and walked a bit faster. "You can add that to your list of things you know about me. I'm a little odd."

"I already knew that." That much was true. She followed along behind Emma, though she was having trouble focusing on the animals. Instead, her mind was struggling to accept that she hadn't known Emma that long at all. That felt wrong, she thought. She did know Emma – but from where?

"I ran into a little boy the other day," Emma said, drawing her back to the present. "A little boy named Henry."

Although Emma said more about this boy and his love for the zoo, Regina wasn't listening. That name caused a visceral reaction, and she stumbled over to a park bench to sit down. She rubbed her cheeks, surprised to find tears there. That was ridiculous, she thought. Emma hadn't said anything to provoke such a reaction. When Emma began to apologize, she pushed Emma away and shook her head.

"Would you take me home?"

0-0-0

Echo sat on the pillow with her legs folded neatly. The leader of the meditation group made occasional comments to help the group focus, but she tuned him out. Despite being in a group, she felt very alone. This was her home, she reminded herself, and these were her friends.

The issue was that they no longer felt that way.

She didn't know these people around her, not really. They had the same conversations day after day, and she ate the same meals day after day. Nothing every changed—except her. She felt different. Something told her to keep quiet though, so she sat in meditation and pretended to relax with her cohorts.

She would figure out these weird feelings before she acted on anything. Things were peaceful and delightful here, but she had spotted armed guards. If there was nothing to worry about, she wondered, then why were there people with guns near the exits? The safest option was to think and wait.

0-0-0

"This dinner is so fancy. A little fancier than I'm used to." Despite her worrisome words, Emma looked very comfortable in her dress and heels. "You might have to remind me of proper protocol for fine dining."

"I somehow don't think you'll have much of an issue. Anyone who can walk that well in heels must know a thing or two about manners and how to comport oneself."

"Oh, you got me. Maybe I was just hoping to have you put me in my place."

That was an odd thing to say, she thought. Awkward and flirtatious, anyway. There was a challenge in those words, and that appealed to her in a way she didn't know was possible. Emma was attractive, and she was looking forward to if they took their relationship to the next step, but that was an odd thing to say.

She didn't know how to address Emma's comment, so she deftly changed the subject. "Thank you for inviting me out again."

"What can I say? I like you."

She smiled, finding the compliment very agreeable. When Emma pulled her chair out for her, she took a seat and verbalized her thanks; Emma beamed at her and sat down opposite. Although their conversation that evening was somewhat banal, she enjoyed the atmosphere of the room, and the way Emma's eyes danced when she got excited about a topic. Emma was loose and fluid in comparison to her rigidity. There was something so lively about this woman, she thought.

There was something familiar, too. That thought had been bothering her for a while. There were things in her head that she had been told were true, but they didn't feel right. If magic were real, she would have sworn that someone had cast a spell on her. Parts of her memory were foggy, and the things that weren't felt as though there was some sort of plastic wrap around them. She could see them, but they weren't quite right.

Deciding to test this, she stared deeply into Emma's eyes and requested, "Would you remind me of how we met?"

Emma stared at her for a long moment. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she found the words to respond. "Uh, don't you remember that? It wasn't that long ago."

"I'd like to hear it from you."

"Well… we both reached for the same book at the library earlier this week." Emma's voice was uncertain, as if she doesn't believe what she's saying.

"That's not right. Tell me the truth." She shook her head – the statement matches up with her memories, but it still doesn't seem like what really happened. She can even picture the spine of the book they were both trying to take down off the shelf, and still she doubts that it truly happened.

Emma leaned forward and kept her voice low. "That is the truth."

"It doesn't feel right." She shook her head again, as if trying to knock the haze from her mind. "…We met on my doorstep."

"So you are in there!" Emma reached across the table, snatched her hand up, and squeezed. Panic flooded her belly. She shouldn't know this, she thought. Emma broke through her fear. "Regina, do you remember?"

"Regina," she repeated. That too felt familiar. Was that her? "I don't – I'm not sure."

"What else do you remember?"

"A little boy." She closed her eyes and struggled to remember. "His name…"

"Henry," Emma said. "His name is Henry."

She swallowed down a swell of emotion as the memories came flooding back.


	8. Chapter 8

For a long moment, all Regina could do was sit perfectly still with her fingers pressed to her lips and her eyes squeezed closed. There was too much to remember and too much pain. She had a son, and she had left him. That meant that he was out there somewhere, and he knew that she had abandoned him to his fate, like she had wished so ardently as a child that her mother would do to her. He, however, probably had no such wish and probably hated her for the choice she made. Her lower lip trembled, and she pressed her hand harder against her lips.

A hand settled on her wrist and pulled her fingers away. "Hey. I need you to stay calm and stay with me, okay? They're watching us and tracking your vitals. If you get too excited, they might wonder what's going on in here and break up our little meeting."

She opened her eyes and stared at Emma. This was the woman who had so rudely barged into her life so many years ago—the woman whose company Henry preferred. That memory felt like a dagger sliding lightly over her skin; it ought to hurt worse, she knew, but instead the feeling was more of an irritation than anything else.

"Is everything okay over here?" The waiter loomed over her shoulder, and she stiffened. Emma said 'they' were watching; did she mean the wait staff? Or someone else? Paranoid, she smiled and shooed him away. "I just remembered that I missed a very important appointment," she lied, "but I think I'll be able to reschedule if I'm willing to beg a bit."

As soon as she started blathering on about her appointment, his attention wandered. He had been hoping for something juicy, she decided, something like a public breakup that he'd be able to tell his friends about after his shift. Well, there would be nothing of the sort at this table, and she promptly returned her attention to Emma.

"So, dear…" She spoke about the weather until the waiter walked away and then sighed. "Was he one of them?"

"I don't think so, but good cover." Emma grinned at her, and, if Regina wasn't mistaken, there were tears glistening in the blonde's eyes. "I just knew you were in there somewhere. I knew it."

"Tell me everything you know."

"You left Storybrooke just over half a year ago. You left Henry a note, which basically said you were sorry but you had to go. Fast forward to the last few months. I came here to look for you based on a credit card receipt. You'd bought coffee or something, and that was the only clue I had. I went to investigate and spotted you with some guy on the other side of the road. I didn't catch you—but I did catch him. He gave me a lead. A business by the name of Dollhouse."

"I work there," Regina filled in slowly. "I agreed to work there."

"Yeah, although I'm not sure why you made that decision or what the circumstances were."

"I had run out of money and options. The deal they offered didn't seem half bad in comparison to my situation."

"Which was?"

"The situation or the offer?"

"Both."

"I was sleeping in parks," was all Regina was willing to admit. She cleared her throat and ignored the obvious pity in Emma's eyes. "They offered me a large sum of money and one special request in return for five years of service."

"Five years of not knowing who you are or what you're doing."

"That felt like a benefit at the time."

Emma grimaced. "I'm sorry it got like that. I should have—"

"Nothing, Ms. Swan. My choices were my own, and it's about time you stop taking fault and responsibility for the problems of other people."

"It's kinda my job."

Regina sniffed. "Well, I'd rather you didn't feel obligated to help me."

"What you'd rather aside—I'm here to help you, and we gotta figure out our next step."

"Can we leave tonight?"

"I'm not prepared for that. Your bodyguard is somewhere outside to make sure nothing fishy happens. I woulda planned something, but I didn't know you'd actually remember everything right away. I thought I'd be at this for a lot longer before you came back piece by piece." Emma rubbed her temples with her fingers.

"When I return to Dollhouse after this dinner, they will wipe my mind again."

"I know." Emma tried not to snap but couldn't keep the vehemence from her voice. The frustration was directed at the universe, and she didn't want Regina to feel bad, but ultimately, her emotions always expressed themselves whether she wanted to keep a poker face or be honest. "But at least we'll know you are in there somewhere."

"What if they wipe me completely clean?" Similar to Emma's problem, Regina couldn't stop her fear from flooding her tone. "What if I'm gone completely—until five years from now when…"

Emma peered at her pallor. "What was your one request?"

"I wanted to forget Henry."

"I won't let that happen."

"I don't know if you can stop it." Regina swallowed roughly and shook her head. "I may have caused more problems than you can solve."

"I'll figure it out," Emma promised as she dug into her pocket. Pulling out her phone, she dialed quickly and handed the cell to Regina. "For now, I think that there's someone who'd like to talk to you."

Her heart stuttered, and her throat clenched. She couldn't talk to Henry—she wasn't ready, and she didn't deserve anything but anger from him. Still, when he sputtered out an excited hello and asked for news, she couldn't leave him waiting.

"Henry?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Mom?"

"Yes, dear."

"It's really you?"

"Yes, dear."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, for now. Are you?"

"I miss you."

"I'm sorry."

He snuffled, alerting her to the fact that he was likely crying. "Are you coming home?"

"I want to, but I can't just yet. Soon though, I promise I will." As she hung up with him a few minutes later, she resolved that no matter how intense the mind-wiping was, she was never going to forget Henry ever again. She wouldn't do that to him.

0-0-0

Emma shifted from foot to foot nervously and eyed her watch every few minutes or so. Regina was late, which technically wouldn't mess up any part of her plan. Thanks to a few old contacts from her bail bonds person days, she had a handheld device tucked into her back pocket that would fry any sort of electrical equipment. If she could cause a disruption between Regina's chip and her bodyguard, she could sneak Regina up to Storybrooke, where the barrier would keep outsiders outside where they belonged—at least long enough for Whale to find and remove the chip.

All she needed at this point was Regina to show up so she could set her plan into motion.

She was getting nervous over nothing, she told herself. This would work out. She just had to relax, and her Charming family luck would take over. She had arranged for Regina to meet her in a park for a picnic. At least, that's what she'd told the Dollhouse employee on the phone. She figured this would be the best way to spot Regina's bodyguard, and walking near the guard's van wouldn't necessarily arouse suspicion. Her Bug was parked two blocks away, and the key fob was tucked into her front pocket for easy access. They'd need to move quickly if they wanted to get away clean.

She let out a sigh and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. If only she'd had this plan in place when she met Regina for dinner. Then she'd be back in Storybrooke already, and this nightmare would be in the past. She snorted at the idea that returning to Storybrooke would be a relief; with the amount of time she'd been away though, she didn't mind too much—especially given that she and Henry were almost on the same page now.

"Emma?"

Emma froze in place, her heart sinking. That wasn't Regina's regular voice. Neither was the speaker Regina using some sort of accent or dialect. She removed her hands from her eyes and stared at the approaching brunette. Although the woman was tall, dark-haired, and smiling, she was definitely not Regina. All the air left Emma's lungs for several long seconds.

"Sorry," she eventually forced out. "I wasn't—that is to say, it's nice to see you. I need to make a phone call really quick, but you should sit down and enjoy the nice day."

The woman giggled and did so; Emma walked ten feet away, pulled her phone out, and dialed Dollhouse with shaking fingers. The person who answered calmly responded to her frantic words and directed her call appropriately. By the time the customer service department was on the line with her, Emma had regained control over her tone.

"What seems to be the problem, Ms. Swan?"

"The problem is that this isn't the doll I requested." Remaining as chipper as possible, Emma hoped to convince the representative to help her.

"I'm sorry for the mix up, ma'am. Let me pull up your records and see if we can't sort this out. Do you mind holding?"

Before Emma could answer, she found herself listening to classical music. She tilted her face up to the sun and shook her head. This was turning into a disaster, but she could fix this. They'd clear this up, and then she'd implement the operation later. The thought kept her calm until the representative's voice rang out in her ear again.

"According to my files, you've reached your limit with the requested doll, and so a substitute was provided."

"My limit? Of what?"

"For safety reasons, namely avoiding obsession and stalking, we only allow customers to rent a certain doll four times. This helps to remove possible dangers to our actives. The record shows that the doll supplied today is similar in looks, and her personality matches what you requested. What seems to be the problem?"

The repetition of that question and the speaker's flat tone irritated Emma, but she refused to show her frustration. The hand holding the phone tensed. "I was just confused. That's all. I just wanted to make sure nothing had happened to her. To Echo."

"Your concern, while appreciated, is unnecessary. All actives are treated with kindness and respect at our facilities. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I—No." Emma shook her head and changed her mind about speaking. The last thing she wanted on her record was her raising a fuss about the doll she was given. The less attention she received, the better, and she might have already raised a few flags by calling in the first place. "Thank you for your time."

She tucked her phone away, stood very still, and let her mind race. Suddenly rescuing Regina looked like a much harder task. If only, she chided herself, she had thought to prepare for an escape at any moment. If only she'd had that foresight. She swallowed past the lump growing in her throat and wondered how she was supposed to enjoy this date when the woman currently seated on her blanket was not Regina. She had no interest in dating anyone but Regina. That thought made the pain flare once more, and she grimaced.

She was supposed to rescue Regina, not fall in love with her. So far though, she had done one and not the other. Henry was going to be furious. She turned to examine her date and sighed. Once she wasted this afternoon with a stranger, she'd head home and rethink her plans. This couldn't be the only way to get Regina to safety. There had to be alternatives.

She just didn't know what they were yet.


	9. Chapter 9

Emma braced herself against the bathroom sink and stared into the mirror; she had entered the bathroom to splash water on her cheeks and instead wound up examining her appearance. As a child, she hadn't bothered much with mirrors. She had liked how she looked because sometimes being cute was the only reason people paid any attention to her. After her teenage years, her looks gained her the attention of others who wanted her body—but someone wanting her sexually was better than nobody wanting anything to do with her, so she soaked up every lustful gaze.

Now though, she wished she could somehow alter her appearance and change her identity. The woman known as Emma Swan, with long blonde hair and determined green eyes, was no longer allowed anywhere near the active doll known as Echo. Her access to Regina had been denied, and she had never before detested her appearance this much before. If she didn't look like her, she could figure out a way to get alone with Regina again.

Unfortunately, this land was without magic, and her options were pretty limited: there was a costume store a few blocks away, but she doubted that a paltry wig and fake mustache would properly conceal her identity. She discarded the idea quickly and released her death-grip on the sink to run a hand through her hair. Rather sulk longer, she called Henry and waited for his advice. He was always the kid with a plan, and if he couldn't figure this out, she'd accept that things were truly messed up.

"Hey! Did it work?"

"No, kid." She squeezed her eyes shut. Saying this out loud was harder than expected. "There's apparently this policy that only lets a person go out with the same doll a few times, and I already hit the limit. They didn't send your mom. They sent someone else."

"Oh…" Though he sounded disappointed, she didn't hear utter defeat in his tone, which gave her a bit of comfort. "You'll get her back, ma. I know it."

She deflated; when he had switched back to calling her Emma, she'd felt a weight off her shoulders. Parents had to have all the answers—they were protectors and providers, and Emma just wasn't, even if she were the prophesied Savior. She was often wrong, and she needed him to realize she wasn't perfect. She couldn't be the parent he wanted, and she couldn't retrieve the parent he needed.

"Kid… I don't know how."

"Can't you just go to work and get her?"

"They wiped her mind again. She'd panic if I just walked in, took her arm, and tried to lead her out."

"So make her remember."

"I wish it were that easy. But that would take time, and they already know I wanted more than the allowed amount of time with her. Any interest I take in her while I'm at work is going to be noted. I could get fired before I got her out."

"Then you have to make her remember right away."

"Kid…"

"You'll figure it out," he interjected confidently. "You're the Savior, and you're going to save her. That's just how things work."

Coming out here was supposed to give her time away from the role she played in Storybrooke, she thought as she tucked the phone away once more. Well, she ought to give his plan a go, even if she wasn't sure it was at all plausible. She had nothing better to offer, and if she failed, then she had good reason to stay away a bit longer.

She marched to bed and flopped down. The problem of making Regina remember was a tough one. If they were in a place where magic existed, she would simply try and have Regina's true love kiss her—that would be difficult, she mused, as she had no idea who that might be, or how she'd sneak that person into the Dollhouse facility.

If she were going to set Regina free the next morning, she might as well pack. She pulled herself upright again and began neatening her meager belongings. She'd get everything into her car in the morning as a vote of faith in Henry's plan. Hopefully, by that time the next evening, she and Regina would be back in Storybrooke. The kid would have his better mom back, and she could go back to being his sorta-mom who didn't really have to take much responsibility for him.

0-0-0

She entered the building bright and early and was pleased to note that nobody paid much attention to her. If there was anything marked in her file about her desire for Regina, nobody either noticed or cared. She was able to find her active without hassle, and she could walk through the building without comment. Using the bathroom as a pretext for leaving her active, she set off to look for Regina, but the brunette was nowhere in sight

Disappointed, she splashed water on her face and tried to think. She had come in with no back up plan. She could continue working here as long as they let her, but that was a dangerous game. If they chose to fire her, she lost her only access to Regina, and then she'd have to wait a long five years to make good on her promise to Henry.

Sighing, she dried her face and left the restroom. On her way toward the locker room, she finally spotted Regina, who stood with a group of equally blank-faced actives. They were speaking to one another, and although Emma couldn't hear what they were saying, she was sure the conversation was vapid and topical. That's all actives talked about, or so she'd heard. Every time she overheard Brooke talking to another active, they were discussing how good salad tasted.

As she approached, she felt no regret about interrupting this questionably important gathering. Regina didn't recognize her at all, but she guided Regina away from the three others. When she was sure that they couldn't hear, she bent near and grabbed Regina's shoulders.

"Regina, I need you to wake up."

"Do I know you?"

"Yes, you do. Henry sent me."

"Henry?" Regina tilted her head to the side and stared at her, as if the name was somehow familiar. For a moment, Emma was hopeful that she'd gotten through to Regina—the moment passed, however, and Regina shook her head. "I don't know a Henry. Is he nice?"

"He's your kid. Your son, Regina. He's waiting for you."

"I don't have a son."

"You do!" Emma lost control for a moment, and her voice pitched up. She cleared her throat and changed tactics. "You were born in the Enchanted Forest, and you married a king, but you weren't happy. You used dark magic to bring everyone here, and then you adopted Henry."

"That sounds like a lovely story."

"It's not just a story." Emma's grip on Regina's shoulders tightened until Regina flinched; Emma released and sighed. "Look, I know it sounds weird, and maybe you don't believe me, but it's all true. I promise. Your name is Regina Mills. Deep down in there, you know that."

"Regina Mills?" She shook her head again. "I don't know who that is."

According to Henry, true love's kiss would fix this, Emma thought. She didn't know if what she felt was true or not, but she felt like she loved Regina. She pulled the brunette close and kissed her. Regina was limp for several long seconds, and Emma feared that this wasn't going to work. Just as she was about to give up, Regina's hand slid along her back and kept her close.

Emma broke away, although all she wanted was to extend the embrace. There would be time for that later. "Do you remember?"

"I do," Regina replied breathlessly.

"Good. That's great. We need to get out of here. Nobody knows you know who you are, and nobody knows I know who you are, so this is our only chance to get out. Okay?"

"What's going on?"

"I'll explain later. I need you to trust me."

"Okay."

Emma took her hand and led her through the halls. Nobody was even looking at them. A hesitant smile worked its way across her lips as they neared the exit. They were so close—in less than twenty feet, they'd be outside, and then they'd get in Emma's Bug. Several hours later, they'd be in Storybrooke. This would all be over, and Henry would have his mother back—

A hand fell on her shoulder. "Ms. Swan, we'll need you to come with us."

She skidded to a halt, eyes fixated on the exit. So close, yet so far. Grimacing, she turned to face the man who stopped her. "What's the matter? I'm just escorting this—"

"We know what you're doing. I don't want to use force, so come along. You, too, Ms. Mills."

Emma glanced at Regina, who looked at her with squinting, confused eyes. She gestured toward the man, and together they headed not toward freedom but deeper into the Dollhouse.

0-0-0

"You've undone some very serious science." Topher peered at Regina. "I'm still not entirely sure how. I am the best in the business, and this shouldn't be possible. I should be able to fix this, though. Be thankful for that."

"Don't you dare." Emma slapped her palm on his desk, causing him to both flinch and stare at her. "She's leaving here today."

He tsk'd at her and waggled a finger. "She signed a contract, and she will honor her end of the deal. Speaking of contracts, I'm afraid that yours has been terminated, Swan."

"I don't understand."

"She signed a five year contract. We aren't in the business of terminating our contracts."

"You have to have a way out. We'll pay the penalty fee, or whatever. Just let her out of this contract. I bet you've never had a doll actually know what she wants and what she's doing. She wants out. You have to honor that."

Regina met Topher's gaze. "I want out."

"You don't even know what's happening."

"No, but I know Emma wouldn't led me astray. If she says I need to leave, I do."

"This is unusual…" He tapped his fingers together. "We've invested a lot into you. If you walk, we're down a doll… Still, we're not unreasonable. Perhaps we can work something out…"

Emma sensed that this wouldn't end well, but this was the only option available so far. "What are you offering?"

0-0-0

Henry stared out the window listlessly. Emma was supposed to let him know how things went, but he hadn't heard anything all day. The suspense had initially bothered him to the point that he couldn't sit still; now, however, his energy was gone, and he was forcing himself to relax and wait like he didn't actually care.

His eyes scanned the street and came to rest on the front bumper of a very familiar yellow Bug. The vehicle rumbled down the street and stopped at the curb outside. Henry leapt to his feet, darted outside, and bounced on the balls of his feet as the driver's side door popped open. Regina stepped out, and he immediately lunged at her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

She hugged him and kissed the top of his head. He wondered briefly if he was dreaming—he could have fallen asleep at his post, and Regina wasn't there with him. He pulled her closer and inhaled slowly. She didn't smell exactly like he remembered, but the scent was close enough. His dream couldn't invent that.

"You're home."

"I am."

He drew back and wiped at the tears gathering in his eyes. Looking toward the Bug, he realized that Emma hadn't yet gotten out. Upon closer inspection, he noted that Emma wasn't in the car at all.

"Where's Emma?"

Regina hugged him again. "They made her a deal she couldn't refuse. She'll be back, Henry. Just not for a while. Not for five years."


	10. Chapter 10

BEFORE. Emma clenched her fists against her thighs and waited impatiently for the blonde man to speak. He seemed to enjoy stringing them along, but she supposed he could string them along because he was the one with power in this situation. Regina had signed a contract while she was in full control of her faculties, and the only way she'd walk out of this building freely was on his terms. Emma hated being in this position, but there was nothing she could do.

"Well… I could be convinced to trade. I could bench a player, just as long as I had someone to put in instead." He eyed her with a smile that infuriated her. "Tit for tat."

"What you're saying is that I can go free if we find someone to take my place." Regina shook her head, intent on denying this offer.

Emma, however, had other plans. Although she had recently decided that she could return to Storybrooke and start working on her parenting skills, she knew that this would be better. As things stood, Henry would only be getting one parent back for the next five years; either Regina went home and took proper care of him, or she returned to Storybrooke empty-handed, defeated, and frustrated. She had to do what was right for Henry. She had to stay, while Regina left.

"I'll do it."

"I'm glad to hear it. I've been watching you, Swan. You've got the right sort of build and musculature, and you do what you're told." He thought for a moment and added, "Except when you don't, but you'll be more compliant once we complete your initial wipe."

"Emma, you can't do this."

"I have to."

"Can we have a moment to decide?" When Topher waved his hand, palm flat, in silent agreement, Regina turned to Emma and took her hands. "There has to be another way out of this."

"I'm pretty sure there isn't." Emma hated that this decision felt like a relief to her. She didn't have to go back to the pressures or stresses of Storybrooke. She understood why Regina would have said yes in the first place, as the idea of five years of blissful nonexistence sounded like a wonderful vacation. She didn't want to leave Regina, especially given whatever it was that was going on between them, but this was the right choice. "I have to do this, Regina. You have to be there for Henry. I don't know how, but you do."

"Emma…"

Emma turned back to Topher. "The deal is this. I'll finish her five-year contract. All I want in return is to have all my memories back when I'm done. If you let her walk out of here and leave, you don't have to do anything more than that. You don't have to pay me. Just let me remember everything once I'm done."

"I think that could be arranged. Well?" His attention slid to Regina. "Is this amenable to you?"

Regina reached over and squeezed Emma's knee. She didn't like this one bit, but she knew this was Emma's choice. "Yes."

"Fantastic. Come along, Swan. Let's begin."

"Gimme a minute." Emma fished her car keys out of her pocket and handed them to Regina. She swiped a piece of paper from Topher's messy workspace and a pen, and began scribbling down a brief message. "Don't come back for me, okay? I know the kid isn't going to like this, but you just gotta let me go for a while. I promise I'll come back."

Regina accepted the handwritten note, which was addressed to Henry. Emma kissed her before standing and following Topher away. Feeling lost, Regina called, "I'll wait for you."

Emma lifted a hand to say good-bye, but Topher guided her away. Regina stood a moment longer before heading morosely to the exit. Every atom of her body wanted to go back for Emma, but she realized that impulse would get her nowhere. Accepting Emma's decision, she left Dollhouse, got in the Bug, and began the drive up to Storybrooke.

As she drove, bits and pieces of her memory came trickling back to her. She remembered leaving Henry in the first place, as well as the actions of the townspeople that had driven her away. She knew he had asked Emma to come find her, and so she wasn't worried that he was angry with her for that—she was, however, anxious that her arrival without Emma would spark new upset feelings.

She remembered the hardships she faced on her own, and she knew she didn't want to face them again. Even if Henry weren't waiting for her return, she'd go back because life in Storybrooke was manageable, even when others made trouble for her. She could handle those tribulations better than she could handle sleeping on a park bench or going hungry.

The closer to Storybrooke she got, the more the anxiety in her belly grew. She drove down Main Street, did her best to ignore the curious looks of townsfolk, and pulled up to the curb outside of her old home. As Henry sprinted out to greet her, she tucked Emma's letter safely into her jacket and exited the car. His arms were so tight around her, and she regretted leaving him behind more now than ever.

She hadn't been gone too long in the grand scheme of things, but he was taller and leaner—and yet still entirely her Henry. She choked back the swelling of her emotions and waited for him to realize that Emma was missing. After answering the inevitable question, she handed him Emma's letter, which he immediately opened and read.

_Kid—  
Don't have much time. Sorry. The way things happened, one of us had to stay. I chose me. You need her. She knows what she's doing. She can tell you more. I'll be home eventually. Be good, kid.  
Love,  
Emma_

He clutched the short missive to his chest, and for a moment, she wondered if he was going to berate her for leaving Emma behind. "Do you hate me? For leaving her behind?"

"I couldn't hate you," he replied. "I just… I guess she forgot that she gets a happy ending, too."

"She'll still get one, Henry. I promise."

0-0-0

Over the course of the next five years, Henry did his best to be as good as Emma wanted him to be. He studied hard in school and only graduated a year late—having connections to the leadership of Storybrooke only did so much for missing so much school, but he didn't let the set backs defeat him. Conscious that Emma would want him to try, he applied himself to his coursework even as his year-mates graduated without him. More than school, he centered his attention on contacting a variety of attorneys, none of whom were willing to work for a kid looking to sue what seemed to be an imaginary company holding his mother hostage. When he'd graduated, he'd put that behind him.

Now, at twenty, he worked for David at the sheriff's department. Sometimes putting the uniform on caused a torrent of sadness to flood him, but he reminded himself that he was doing all of this for her so she'd be proud of the man he became by the time she got home.

Still, the negative emotions tended to swamp him when he was least prepared. He appreciated that he worked for family because there were days when he couldn't get out of bed. Emma had given him up for adoption, a decision that he had come to understand, and then she had given up parenting him—that one still bothered him. There had to have been a way for them to both come back.

The phone at his desk rang, pulling him from his thoughts back into the current moment. David had left a few hours prior on an emergency call, which left him in charge of the station. He answered the phone and used his most mature voice.

"Storybrooke Sheriff's Office. This is Deputy Mills. What's your emergency?"

"Henry! I'm glad I caught you before you left for the night."

Recognizing the voice, he said, "Ruby, what's wrong?"

"We've been robbed. You need to get down here."

"I'll be right there."

He jumped to his feet, secured his holster to his belt, and sprinted for the door. Barely remembering to lock the door behind himself, he ran the few blocks to the diner and skidded to a halt inside, where he found a giant birthday banner spread across the wall. Heart still hammering, he tried to smile as friends and family appeared with a loud cry of surprise.

Ruby enveloped him in a hug, but he pushed her away. "That was rude, Rubes. I thought you guys were actually in trouble."

She gave him a fond noogie and pushed him off toward Regina. "Go say thanks to your mom for setting this up."

He did as he was bid, but, as great as the surprise was, he couldn't help but wish that his other mother were there as well.

0-0-0

Emma walked into town.

She'd spent a few days begging for enough money to buy a Greyhound ticket to the town closest to Storybrooke, and another few days gathering the courage to buy her passage back. She'd promised her family she'd come back, but she'd been so tempted to run away.

It was the kid's birthday, and she had nothing to give him. She'd thought about begging a bit more and trying to buy him a card or something, but she knew she was just trying to put off coming home a bit longer. Her gift, she knew, would be her arrival home, so she walked a bit faster down the road. As she passed by Granny's, she glanced inside the well-lit room and spotted Henry and Regina embracing; her heart clenched at the sight. She'd made the right choice.

Sucking in a deep breath, she hurried up the walkway, pulled the door open, and entered. The room went quiet as she waited for Henry to see her. He turned slowly and stared at her.

"Emma?"

She nodded stiffly, her heart thudding and her throat tight. He didn't look pleased to see her. "Happy birthday, kid."

"You came back."

"I always promised I would."

He approached her slowly; expecting something less cordial, she was surprised when he hugged her. "You came back," he repeated.

She laughed, although there was no humor in the small noise. "I think I'm ready to be your mom now, but you don't need a mom, do you? You're twenty. You stopped needing me a long time ago."

"I'll always need you." He drew back and stared at her. "This doesn't mean you're off the hook for that stunt you pulled."

"Hey. Which one of us is the parent, and which one is the child?"

He rolled his eyes and jerked his head toward Regina, who watched from a distance. "She's probably got a few choice words for you, too. Neither of us liked that you stayed behind."

"I didn't like it much myself. But I did what I had to so that you and her could be safe and happy."

"Thanks."

"Did she—is she—?"

"Go talk to her," he urged.

Straightening her shoulders, she strode over with as much confidence as she could muster. Once her moment with Henry was over, the diner resumed its normal clatter and chatter—she was sure that come morning, most residents would once more be cloying for her attention or asking for her story, so for now, she focused only on Regina.

"Hey."

"Hey." Regina's lips trembled. "You're never to do that again, do you hear me, Ms. Swan?"

"You and the kid both." Emma offered a wobbling smile. "I did what I thought needed to happen."

"You are to stop sacrificing yourself this instant. I hereby strip you of your savior title. Retire from the business, Emma, and spend a few years taking care of yourself."

Emma shrugged. "That depends on how much trouble you get into—"

"You don't need to worry. Henry's a deputy these days. He keeps me safe from the ruffians around these parts."

"I noticed his uniform."

"He takes after you."

"I sucked as a parent back when he needed me most, but I still had an influence, huh?" Emma rubbed the back of her neck. "I guess I didn't suck too bad."

Regina was silent a moment. "Thank you, Emma. For what you did."

"Did you wait for me?"

Regina stepped forward, slid her hand behind Emma's neck, and tugged Emma close. She first kissed the tip of Emma's nose and then moved to Emma's mouth. She'd been dreaming of this moment for half a decade, and reality was much more pleasing than her fantasies.

"I'd wait forever for you, my dear."


End file.
